


Chances

by OutcastTrip1995



Series: So, a Mando, a Dathomirian and an Umbaran Walk Into a Cantina [16]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Sorry this is so jerky, Swipes is one nasty piece of work, The Outcasts may be crazy ... but damn can they fight, Trying to write a combat scene isn't easy, Umbara was a hellscape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 01:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15619377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutcastTrip1995/pseuds/OutcastTrip1995
Summary: Chances ... first, last, and in between. They can all happen in an instant on the battlefield.





	Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Hellions are the awesome creation of Naaklasolus! ^^

"How's Swoop doing? I haven't seen him yet, you didn't finally snap, did you?" 

Swipes saw red. How … he dared …?! That bastard! With a snarl that bordered on a legitimate roar, he launched himself at Voss and sent the two of them crashing down into the dirt. Still snarling, Swipes started pounding his fists brutally into Voss’s face, ignoring the other clone’s return blows in his rage. 

“Y’know … it’s going to be a great dissatisfaction killing you … ‘cause I only get to do it once!” 

Grabbing Voss by the front of his armor, Swipes viciously slammed him back into an exposed tree root before pitching forward as an explosion rocked the ground. Snarling and looking up, his eyes narrowed viciously. An Umbaran ambush huh? About damn time. Looking down at Voss, Swipes yanked a knife from his armor and used it to pin the other clone to the tree root. Standing and dusting himself off, he grinned nastily at the struggling assassin. 

“You wait right there; the professionals have business to attend to.” 

Spinning on his heel, Swipes dived into the fight with a yell. He’d be damned if this fucking campaign screwed up his last chance to finish off another A-type. 

*** 

“Ge' the flamethrowas up 'ere now!” 

Nikov’s bellow echoed out over the chaos prompting Inferno, Machine and Beskar to break away – Mando physically hauling one Umbaran off Beskar so the other clone could do his job – and climb up a small ridge. Hauling their heavy flamethrowers off their backs, they were soon unleashing blazing torrents of burning propellant and fuel onto the panicking Umbarans. The problem though was that there was a high chance of friendly fire; which would fuck up Swipes’ plan. And then they’d have to deal with a pissed off assassin. Slowly the flames petered away, the trio rejoining the fight proper. None of them wanted to take a chance when it came to the unpredictable murderous mess that was Swipes. They liked living thanks. 

*** 

Nikov frowned as he bodily threw one Umbaran into another, their helmets making a satisfying crunching sound as they met. This was getting ridiculous; the Umbarans just seemed to be pouring out of every opening in the forest like so many swarming strill. They needed to get their act together and fast … and Krell certainly wasn’t helping! An explosion followed by a startled scream told him that the plan was already underway: Yamaha’s shrapnel packed grenades doing damage to friend and foe alike. Letting out an ear shattering whistle, Nikov held his lightsaber up so the other Outcasts knew where he was. 

“Rally ta meh! Ta meh!” 

With the Outcasts all gathered together, their line stretching out on either side of Nikov; the fierce young warrior snarled and pointed his ‘saber at the regrouping Umbarans. 

“Oya!” 

With Sunny and Swipes immediately flanking him followed hby the rest of the Company, he charged towards the militia. They needed to break the Umbaran lines, this was their only chance to win and take the victory this day. 

*** 

The ambush in tatters, the few militia members left alive fleeing, Sunny sighed tiredly and removed his helmet. Dropping it to the floor and looking around with jaded eyes, he took in the damage. So many injured, some deliberate and some because of the ambush. He knew Swipes wasn’t going to be happy: the assassin had missed his chance to put a serious dent in the Hellion’s numbers in addition to not being able to get rid of Voss. But right now that wasn’t his problem. His problem was that Krell was storming right towards his own Jedi, the Padawan following after the murderous looking Besalisk. One hand reached up to rub at his bruised neck as Sunny watched the developing confrontation warily, taking note of the creepy Hellion ARC watching over the entire situation from triage. This was bad … they couldn’t afford Krell taking his chances and removing Nikov from the equation. This whole campaign could go up in smoke and fire … and there wasn’t a damn thing Sunny could do about it. 

*** 

Wiping the blood from his hands, Wrench looked tiredly around at the triage area. Looked like everyone was going to make it … the injuries would slow several up, but he knew Swipes had probably planned that. After all … only one clone could make shrapnel grenades like those and it sure as hell wasn’t Boom-Time. Grumbling and ignoring the starry eyed Jumpstart (honestly … shoot a few Umbarans and wrench some more and apparently that made him viable for what appeared to be bloody hero worship!) Wrench went back to tying off the bandage around Trauma’s leg. Gently rapping the other medic’s armor when he was done, Wrench jerked his head roughly. 

“Go on. You’re all done.” 

The kid took off like a wounded nerf calf, stumbling away on gawky thin legs. Wrench sighed again and shook his head. If anyone needed another chance; it was Trauma.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
